


The First Knight

by Jana



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Adorable Little Murder Dragon, Crack, International Fanworks Day 2021, Role Reversal, Who Wants To Be A Knight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29463135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jana/pseuds/Jana
Summary: In a world where Laurence is born perhaps the most aggressive dragon breed ever he will still be a proper, honourable one. And little prince Tienxiang will still meet him, because some things are universal constants. The Imperial Court doesn't know what is going to hit it very soon.
Comments: 34
Kudos: 84





	The First Knight

By the time the war was declared 1803 no-one in Great Britain had attempted to captain Grey Widowmakers for centuries. They were so wild beasts no harnessing had ever been successful and rare even in the wild because they were so territorial they kept attacking others dragons, often regardless of their target's size. Even then, they were intelligent creatures even if not the most intelligent among the dragons and eventually one was bound to break the mould.

This was set to motion in 1804. The egg was found in the Houwe breeding grounds half a day's ride from Kilmarnock, next to the corpses of a Xenica named Augusta, a Malachite Reaper that had never been given a name, but had called himself Borough and a female Grey Widowmaker that really shouldn't have been there, all torn to bloody shreds. The eggs of Xenicas and Grey Widowmakers looked deceptively the same and it was assumed that this had been merely a breeding "in the wild". It happened sometimes, that the handlers didn't notice a beast was heavy with eggs soon enough.

It didn't occur to anyone that the egg might have belonged to the Grey Widowmaker, not so far down south and close to human habitation.

The egg was sent to Loch Laggan covert and assigned a captain-hopeful as these matters went. Thomas Wilbur was an earnest man who was already a veteran of eight battles, defending the channel from the French aggression, and who had served a long and uneventful peacetime career with as much distinction as such a career might be served. Rather than turn to Roman influence he was a romantic who read the egg stories of King Arthur and his court, hoping to instill chivalric values into his dragon.

But luck was not with Thomas Wilbur. Mere two weeks before the shell of the egg hardened he ate mussels gone bad and died of food poisoning.

***

_"Within a while thereafter was a jousting at the court, wherein Sir Lancelot won the prize. And two of those he smote down were Sir Agravaine, the brother of Sir Gawain, and Sir Mordred, his false brother—King Arthur’s son by Belisent. And because of his victory they hated Sir Lancelot, and sought how they might injure him._

_So on a night, when King Arthur was hunting in the forest, and the queen sent for Sir Lancelot to her chamber, they two espied him; and thinking now to make a scandal and a quarrel between Lancelot and the king, they found twelve others, and said Sir Lancelot was ever now in the queen’s chamber, and King Arthur was dishonoured."_

Lancelot loved hearing these stories. It was hard to think, oftentimes, everything going soft and then simply away. There was an away beyond the shell and one day Lancelot would go there as well and then he would perhaps find those thoughts. His name would be Lancelot, he knew this because Thomas Wilbur had told him so. He loved these stories, but he didn't so much love what Lancelot's story was turning into. Stealing from other people was bad, his captain had told him so. Knights were supposed to be good, he had also told Lancelot this, so why was the Lancelot of the story so bad now?

He liked the thought of being a knight because knight killed their king's enemies and England had a king so this was obviously the perfect life for him. He hadn't ever tasted blood because that was in the beyond too, but he was sure it would taste very good. Lancelot didn't want to steal a queen, however. What would he even do with a queen? It would only make the king angry and sad and he didn't want to make the king angry and sad.

_"Then the king, full of wrath and grief, agreed thereto, and sent letters throughout the realm to summon all his knights, and went with a vast army to besiege the Castle of La Joyous Garde. And Sir Lancelot, with his knights, mightily defended it; but never would he suffer any to go forth and attack one of the king’s army, for he was right loth to fight against him._

_So when fifteen weeks were passed, and King Arthur’s army wasted itself in vain against the castle, for it was passing strong, it chanced upon a day Sir Lancelot was looking from the walls and espied King Arthur and Sir Gawain close beside._

_“Come forth, Sir Lancelot,” said King Arthur right fiercely, “and let us two meet in the midst of the field.”_

_“God forbid that I should encounter with thee, lord, for thou didst make me a knight,” replied Sir Lancelot._

_Then cried Sir Gawain, “Shame on thee, traitor and false knight, yet be ye well assured we will regain the queen and slay thee and thy company; yea, double shame on ye to slay my brother Gaheris unarmed, Sir Gareth also, who loved ye so well. For that treachery, be sure I am thine enemy till death.”_

_“Alas!” cried Sir Lancelot, “that I hear such tidings, for I knew not I had slain those noble knights, and right sorely now do I repent it with a heavy heart. Yet abate thy wrath, Sir Gawain, for ye know full well I did it by mischance, for I loved them ever as my own brothers.”_

_“Thou liest, false recreant,” cried Sir Gawain, fiercely._

This was so horribly sad! Lancelot would have curled even tighter in his egg had such a thing been possible. He swore there and then to never-ever steal a queen or a princess, which were little hatchling-queens and still counted. And perhaps he shouldn't steal any ladies either, just to be on the safe side. He would rather rescue them since that was what knights were supposed to do. He would be a good knight and kill his captain's and his king's enemies and redeem his name. Never would people think of a traitor when they heard the name Lancelot. He drifted away again with these comforting thoughts, dreaming of honour and blood he had yet to taste. He would eat all their bones too!

But then a tragedy struck! His captain died! He heard of it from the unknown people beyond the shell, about how this was terrible bout of luck and who might be chosen for the egg now. He was so depressed he thought he might not want to come out of his egg after all, but it was getting rather small. And there was still the king. Wasn't it his duty as a knight to fight for the king? If he needed a new captain to fight for the king then he would, even though he still felt terrible. He resolved to write a poem for his poor first captain right when his new captain taught him to write and then kill all the mussels in the world. He didn't really know what mussels were like, but imagined they were great, fearsome beasts. Also, probably French.

And slowly the shell began to harden. Slowly, until it wasn't so slow anymore.

***

It was the early January 1805 when a Chinese delegation arrived to Great Britain. That they arrived to Edinburgh rather than London was sheer chance; a fierce storm wind had blown them off their course and the captain was merely glad to see there was a castle in Edinburgh so that the young prince might be hosted at least somewhat according to his station.

That the young prince Aisin Gioro Tienxiang had come to be in Great Britain at all was the result of a long political battle. Within the Jiaqing Emperor's court raged a battle between those favouring closer ties with the west and those against, preferring isolationism. Lately Aisin Gioro Mianning had gained the upper hand, sending a Royal Delegation to the West to exchange a long-sought trade agreement for the ship-building skills of the country possessing the greatest navy in the world, for he had like so many before him turned his eyes and ambition towards the Land of the Rising Sun. Aisin Gioro Yongxing had had his own little revenge, however, by ensuring that it was the young Prince Tienxiang who was sent.

Oh he certainly wasn't the one conduction the negotiation, merely an imperial presence and an insult rolled into one, that a mere boy of thirteen years old would be the one sent. Tienxiang was perfectly aware of this and didn't care a bit. It was a whole new world for him! A barbarian world, admittedly, but he had lived his whole life in the Forbidden City and frankly anywhere else was a welcome distraction from the pomp and ceremony by now. He was reasonably certain the British wouldn't even regard his presence as an insult anyway.

As it happened he didn't get to stay in the Edinburgh Castle as the castle vaults were used to hold prisoners of war, but was rather brought to a much smaller Laurence Estate where the hosts weren't present, but presumably would not protest sudden royal visitors. And it was in the garden of the Laurence Estate that he came across a very small, very determined dragon dragging along a strange leather contraption and a piece of meat.

***

When Lancelot hatched it was in the middle of the night. His shell had hardened rapidly and he had been hatched much sooner than either a Xenica or a Malachite Reaper ought to have - but of course no-one could have known that. A captain had been selected, but currently the man was on his way in a carriage, but of course Lancelot couldn't have known that. And through a stroke of strange luck Lancelot happened to be alone even though there ought to have been someone by his side at all moments, the watcher having gone to the privy.

"Who is to be my captain fierce and true? Thou shouldst step forth that I may accept ye as mine own!" Lancelot called out, but only dark, warm silence answered him. And this was a problem.

But he was a proper, well-educated dragon. If these people didn't want to give him another captain then he ought to go find one himself. A knight would be the best kind of captain and would of course be found in a castle, but Lancelot didn't really know what castles looked like. Oh, he knew they had towers and towered up towards the sky, but he didn't quite know what towering meant so this wasn't very useful bit of knowledge. They also had castle walls, but all buildings had walls and he wasn't certain how to tell these special castle walls apart from the ordinary. Castles were supposed to be very large buildings so perhaps he simply ought to search for the largest building he could find, and since he was currently inside a building he knew what walls and roofs looked like.

"I trust that thou wilt hatch with all due haste and, I doubt not, we shalt all gain honour,” he told the remaining eggs before taking a bite from a bucket of dried meat, meant for an emergency hatching. He properly ought to only eat after he had found his captain, but he knew he was going to need all his strength. Then grasped a thing that looked like it might go around him, which ought to mean that it was a harness, in his claws. One more piece of meat, the largest, to give his captain so that he might give it to him. And then he squeezed his way out of the door that the unfortunate watchman had left a bit ajar. He had a knight to find!

Now it ought to be stated that Loch Laggan and Edinburgh weren't that close to each other, certainly not for a newly hatchet dragonet. Lancelot ate his piece of meat, caught a rabbit, found out that blood really tasted very good, continued his journey, ate the rest of the rabbit and hunted down a bird. When he finally arrived to Edinburgh it was the third night and he had already despaired of ever finding a castle - but quests were never supposed to be easy! As it was dark he missed the castle entirely and flew towards the concentration of lights, searching for the tallest of the buildings.

He didn't quite make it to the city before he happened upon what surely _had_ to be a castle! It was so beautiful and there was someone waiting for him outside and that someone had something that gleamed on him that had to be gold! All of Lancelot's instincts screamed that it was gold and he flew downwards.

***

Tienxiang wasn't precisely startled when the small dragon landed close to him, but he was surprised. The poor child was clearly much too young to be out alone, how had these people managed to lose a dragon?

"Well met, little one. Who might you be?" he asked the dragon, who didn't answer because of course the dragon wouldn't speak any Chinese. Instead he or she chittered in English, but his voice had summoned his guards who had discreetly stood a little way behind him, unable to see the grey dragon in the dark garden. Only the lights of his lantern and what shone from the windows of the small, quaint residence prevented the modest garden from being pitch black.

"Please, this is a baby, not an assassination attempt," he said as though he was exasperated as one of the guards begun to draw his sword. "Call for Liu Bao that he might translate, they are clearly lost." He was proud of how mature he sounded, because on the inside he was giddy like a toddler given candy. This was a first time he had seen a dragon so young and though it was difficult to see in the dark he or she really looked quite cute in a ferocious kind of way.

Tienxiang had always loved those stories of warrior dragons. He of course knew it was for the lowborn, but... Hadn't their own Manchu ancestors once been warlords? Hadn't even the venerable Celestials once fought in great battles? Poems were of course civilized and polished and other such things, but they weren't very engaging in his opinion.

Liu Bao came with all due haste, along with more light, and he could see the little dragon clearer. They were clearly a small breed, light, neutral grey that shifted to silver on their underbelly, two horns and surprisingly long claws. They had a short conversation, Liu Bao's usually very still, aloof face twisting into some very funny expressions as the little dragon waved their little paw imperiously.

"Your Highness, this young dragon has declared that he is an honourable dragon of His Majesty the King George III of Great Britain and Ireland and that he has already been named Lancelot by his first captain. He also inquired whether or not you are a Frenchman and whether or not you are a knight. Having heard that Your Highness is indeed prince and not French he has declared his wish that Your Highness gives him the piece of meat he has carried and... puts that contraption on him. This lowly servants apologizes on his behalf..." Liu Bao bowed deep, his sleeves hitting the short grass at their feet.

"He is a child," Tienxiang said, waving his hand; he wasn't one for standing in ceremony if it could be avoided in any case. Usually it couldn't, not in the Forbidden City, but here he was as free as a flying dragon and currently face-to-face with one! Maybe Lancelot could be his friend for the short while he would spend in England. Would it be appropriate to hug Lancelot now?

Mostly he was appalled that a child this young would have been given a captain already... and had lost said captain? He didn't know what the implications were in the original English. But in any case he was glad enough to humour the cute dragon, even if he didn't understand why he wouldn't simply eat the piece of meat himself if he wanted it. Surely these uncivilized people didn't spoil their dragons so much that he would expect handfeeding...

Were those bloodstains on Lancelot's snout? Lancelot's tongue was rough as it delicately brushed against his fingers.

How were these buckles supposed to go on him? Why did he want to wear this thing anyway... wait...

***

Lancelot ate his last piece of the unknown bird in deep satisfaction. A prince was even better than a knight and would probably go on all kinds of interesting, dangerous quests because that was what royalty did. He still mourned his first captain and was going to write that poem once his new prince-captain told him how to do that, but things were working out fine anyway.

"I promise I shalt never steal thy queen or princesses," he swore solemnly and the man who spoke both English and this strange language, Chinese, choked for some reason. "Your doubt doth grieve me sorely, for truly I wilt never do such a thing," he admonished that man and climbed on the little prince's lap. He would kill so many enemies for him.

**Author's Note:**

> And there was a castle, but neither the prince nor the dragon went to it!
> 
> And this is the story of how Laurence becomes the most chivalrous, polite Grey Widowmaker to have ever lived. He manages to learn to speak Chinese through sheer perseverance, though he doesn't write it very well and mostly just dictates those poems to Temeraire. His manners are very courtly and he is always ready to help a woman in distress.
> 
> He also brutally slaughters four assassins, seven bandits, nineteen would-be rapists and a small pirate fleet over the course of his life and mostly mourns that fact that China doesn't declare war against Japan during his lifetime. Temeraire adores him and the court lives in abject terror of him.
> 
> And he never-ever kidnaps a noblewoman, or any women at all. His will stated that this should be engraved on his gravestone.


End file.
